Always
by Corinne Marie
Summary: Everyone makes mistakes. Maybe if he hadn't made so many, he wouldn't have lost her.


**A/N: This is late, so I'll make it short. Written for The second round of Penelope's competition. Enjoy!**

* * *

There were so many thing's he'd take back if he could. He'd had so many choices, but he always seemed to make the wrong one. He couldn't do anything right when it came to Lily.

He'd always loved her, from the first time he ever saw her. And in his own opinion, his first mistake was to tell her about the Wizarding World. It brought them closer together, sure, but it drove a wedge between Lily and her sister, a fact she'd never forgiven him for, even if she'd never said it. Of course, she would have found out anyway, but if he hadn't told her, it wouldn't have been his fault.

Getting into Slytherin wasn't his fault, but the friends he chose didn't help with Lily. She didn't mind being around them with him, really, but she didn't like them either. He still wondered if she had known from the beginning what they would become. He suspected she even knew before they did. And she urged him to stay away from them, but he didn't listen. They were popular among the other students, and he was hoping that by being friends with them, he would get her attention.

His fifth year in Hogwarts, he had used that stupid word. It was just a word. So worthless when you think about it. And he'd thrown everything they might have ever had away just by saying it. Not to mention that Potter and his friends could have killed him. They probably would have, if Lily hadn't been around. But what made him feel the worst about it was the look on her face. Not anger or sadness, just shock. And then something flashed across her face that no one else seemed to catch. She looked like she'd expected that. Even hearing her insult Potter was no great consolation. He shouldn't have said it. He knew that. But he couldn't go back.

Going forward hadn't helped either, though. He'd waited for her, knowing she had to come out eventually, but when she did it was if they'd never even been friends. And even though it seemed at the time that he had done all he could, he knew he could have done more. He could have followed her around, begged her forgiveness, become as annoying as Potter had. That had obviously worked for him. But that could have just been another mistake in the long run.

And then he'd joined up with Lord Voldemort. It seemed fitting. He'd lost the only girl he'd ever loved, so why not? Except that it guarenteed that she would never speak to him again, even if they had been on speaking terms. She wouldn't even look at him anymore. He knew working with Voldemort wouldn't help him with Lily, but he didn't know what else he could possibly do.

Her death was a shock. He knew Voldemort was going to go after her. Well, her son, anyway. But he said he was going to try to let her alone. He should have known she was going to try to protect Harry. That she'd never give up someone she loved. The only way she'd have been spared would have been if she hadn't been there. She'd always been that way. He shouldn't have expected anything different. But it still hurt. He should have protected her himself. Not that she would have accepted that. He didn't really care what James thought, but he wouldn't have approved, either.

And then Harry had arrived, and he had to look into those green eyes—Lily's eyes—far more often than made him comfortable. And sometimes he would cry. Not that he would admit that to anyone, but he did. He couldn't stand being so close to her, and yet too far away to really see her. Harry was so much like her. It just wasn't fair.

He went to visit her grave sometimes. He never actually got close to it before, but that day was different. Halloween. The sixteenth anniversary of her death. It seemed like long enough. It seemed like she should have forgiven him by then. Why he was wondering if a dead woman had forgiven him, he didn't even know. He wouldn't have cared if it hadn't been Lily. Then again, if it wasn't Lily, he wouldn't be there. He stood in front of the grave, silent, just staring. Even after all that time, he could still see her face when he closed his eyes. He reached out and touched the stone of the grave. A few tears slid down his face, and he decided he couldn't stay there any more. He had to get back to the school, anyway. He thought for a minute, and then set down the flowers he'd brought with him. Yellow chrysanthemums and white carnations. It seemed to fit the occasion. Propped up against the flowers, he placed a card. It only said one word, the truest word he'd ever said. He only wished he could have said it to her before it was too late. Just another mistake he'd made. But at least part of that could be resolved. Not completely, of course, but if she was watching, maybe now she'd understand.

Always.

* * *

**A/N: Kay, read and review, please.**


End file.
